


Beyond Our Days

by Hooda



Series: Tipping Tides [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Damn Hooda back at it with the feels, Family, Fest, I added a second half because why not ??, New Republic, after the war, happy feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-25 18:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9838523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hooda/pseuds/Hooda
Summary: He was only five years old - three days before his sixth birthday - when his family was slaughtered in their tiny living room.He comes back, twenty five years later, despite his sister’s final wishes, when the war is over and Jyn's fingers clasping his.





	1. Chapter 1

He was only five years old - three days before his sixth birthday - when his family was slaughtered in their tiny living room.

The white of the troopers’ uniform armor flashes in the doorway of the home he barely remembers now and Jaina has to drag him into the siblings’ shared room. The last Cassian saw of his mother was her steely frame and dark curled hair, collecting herself before opening the door. The trooper barely breathes when he lifts his blaster, pulls the trigger, hitting Renna Andor square in the chest. Her body was quiet as it fell to the floor.

A little string of red peeks out from the corner of her gaping mouth.

Jaina slaps a hand over her little brother’s small mouth to keep him from screaming. She drags him down the hall and through the door to their room, slamming the door behind her and locking it. It cuts off the view of the white soldiers finishing off the others. Auntie, Uncle Pubar, Manani. The mix of screams and echoes of blaster rounds slices through little Cassian’s ears, numbing him with terror. His eyes are wide with horror, his soft little face screwed into a look of utter agony. Tears leak from his eyes.

His older sister flings open the window to the outside. The cold of Fest hits them with vigor and Jaina hurries him into his thick blue snow suit. Cassian presses his tiny fists into her shirt as she zips up the suit, never wanting to let go of her, shaking with terror and sobs. Jaina sits him on the sill, kisses the brow of his hairline, whispers something to him in their native tongue. Her palms cover his shoulders, squeezing them tightly.

“Run,” her breath is warm against his skin. “Never look back.”

No _I love you_ ; no words of solace.

As an adult, Cassian struggles to remember the finer details of his sister’s person. She had beautiful dark eyes like his father with curled hair like his mother, a sprinkle of freckles across her tanned face and a jaw set with nervous determination. He never forgot the force of her hands pushing him out of the window and into the sludge of snow behind the miniscule dwelling their family claimed.

Jaina closes the window closed and refuses to check if Cassian runs or hides.

The house is silent, save for the quiet footfalls of soldiers prowling. Terror fizzles through her mind, the sense of being preyed upon, the door her only defense against the hunters. When the door handle starts rattling, Jaina raises her small blaster - a gift from her father - and plants her feet. Cassian was gone; her family was dead; the war was coming to a close and her last moments would be wasted in total fear and petty rebellion.

The lock shatters from the force of blaster fire.

Jaina’ arms shake violently, but her eyes never waver from the door. Her heartbeat pounds in her ears, drowning out everything and anything else around her. The door smashes open and blaster fire erupts.

_Run, Cassian; never look back._

_________

He comes back, twenty five years later, despite his sister’s final wishes.

It has been so long since that last day that Cassian could almost mistake it for a night terror of some sort, like his mother and father still sat in the little living space sipping coffee over taxation forms, waiting for the soft patter of his feet to come scurrying down the hall in the dead of night from being jolted scared awake.

Fest is the same color of filth as he remembers it. Mud and pollution clogs the air and snuff out the beauty of the snowy environment. War factories - both old and new - line the edges of his birth city like a wall cutting off the slopes of white snow from the hungry industry of the city’s inhabitants.

Jyn accompanies him on this mission.

Her eyes roam with precision and practiced accuracy, pulling potential friend from foe as Cassian holds her hand and leads them through the city of Kavrika; his home city. The smell of dirty garbage and slums of travellers he is accustomed to; the smells of traditional  _ cascaritas  _ and  _ lenguas  _ on street grills is what hits him the hardest. The memories feel like they are being pulled out of him with a curved hook, scraping and scratching as it brings up little snippets of flashes from his young age living here.

Jyn keeps her fingers tight through his, the pressure is enough to remind him of the reason why they came in the first place, to remember the mission, to push aside anything that could put them in danger.

Jedha - before the blast - must have had the same effect on her, Cassian realizes as they swerve around a street vendor carrying a pack of varying sized articles of clothing. They take care to avoid the bustling of the city’s center where the bulk of trouble can catch them. Instead, they curve their way through a market center, hands clasped closely through the hordes of vendors and buyers.

Three terse hours later they have collected what they came for - a list of potential names the surviving bits of the Empire could replace the dead Emperor for - and carefully making their way through back alleys towards their docked ship. The last thing they wanted to do was spend more time than necessary on an Imperial backwater planet, regardless of the history Cassian shares with it.

He doesn’t remember the city specifically, doesn’t want to, but that doesn’t stop unwanted recognition flash through him when he lays eyes on something. The plaza where his father was shot dead. The alley he hid in as a child in a little blue snow suit.

Jyn’s loud chewing as she crams a late lunch into her mouth somehow brings him back to reality. It isn’t until they are two corners from their ship when they hear the screams and Jyn abandons her ration bar completely, shoving it instead into her pocket.

It isn’t the muffled cries of an adult or the labored breathing of soldiers in masks, but the pitiful cries of a child. They round a corner in time to see a pair of what could be teenagers kick a boy no older than four or five to the muddy ground, pelting him with hits. The child can barely stand to defend himself, tears streaming down his little tanned cheeks and blood mixing with the flow. The two assailants throw cusses at the child as much as physical hits, even going so far as to grabbing the boy’s coat to slam him into a nearby wooden crate.

“Shut him up!” one of the assailants growls. He’s skinny, underfed and probably street-raised. His partner pulls a knife from the confines of his ragged coat and grabs their victim by the scruff of the its jacket with their other hand, pulling the screaming bundle struggling into the air with ease.

The wailing intensifies.

Cassian yells something in a language Jyn doesn’t understand and the hand laced through hers is suddenly gone. The two older boys look up with wide, stunned eyes and gape at the man making for them in long, quick strides. He storms in their direction, fire spitting from his eyes and fists curled tightly. The squirming child stops screaming, only because he is abruptly dropped onto the muddy street.

Jyn follows the fuming Cassian closely, noticing peeking eyes from the shuttered windows of housing apartments around them. Her hand barely strays from her blaster.

The skinny teenagers scram quicker than rats into the shadows of the street. Cassian’s eyes flick to the little boy in the mud and Jyn notices something flash across his beautiful brown irises; recognition, pity?

An equal mixture of snot, tears, and blood pool around the boy’s face and hands as he picks himself up from the ground and curls into himself. His little eyes are as dark as Cassian’s, Jyn realizes, with skin equally as tan. His jacket is torn in some places, exposing an even dirtier shirt underneath.

Without a second thought Jyn is kneeling, ignoring the squelch of mud under her knees and unfurls the thick blue scarf that the Alliance had given her to survive the cold of Hoth so many years before. Her hands are careful as she wraps the fabric around the boy - she ignores the flinching motion he makes when her hands reach for him - and settles the scarf around his shoulders. He shakes violently under her fingers.

Cassian rakes the area for the two trouble makers, but Jyn’s action wins his attention. Her cautious yet gentle movements keep him focused and calm.

“What is your name?” he asks the boy in a soft tone. Wide, tear rimmed eyes bulge up at his face in obvious confusion. “ _ Que es tu nombre _ ?”

The child buries himself under Jyn’s scarf, staring up at the two strangers.

“Sebastian,” he says so quietly they almost miss it. The corners of Cassian’s lips turn up a hairbreadth of an inch and he slowly lowers himself onto one knee beside the boy. Jyn opts to stand up, checks her holodisk for the time left before their scheduled time to departure and places a reassuring hand on Cassian’s shoulder. They need to make this quick or they’ll get an earful from Command.

“ _ Y tus padres _ ?” Cassian asks the boy, already helping the child to his small feet and wiping some of the blood from his small forehead. A cut lines above his tiny thick eyebrows.

“ _ No se. Nunca regresaron para mi.” _ Cassian goes stiff under Jyn’s hand.

“ _ Quien te esta cuidando? _ ” he asks slowly, quietly, eyes dulling in the way Jyn has learned quickly that means some idea is brewing in his head. Sebastian wipes his tiny hand across the space between his nose and mouth, wiping away the snot that leaks from his nose. The scarf shifts and he winds it tighter around his fists.

_ “Nadie me quiere.” _

(Cassian is suddenly seven years old again, starving on the streets of a city that is as cold as the iced mountains surrounding it, cold and abandoned. The memory is fleeting, but enough to shake him to his core. Jyn’s warm fingers pull him from the crushing weight of being alone, squeezing with unknowing force.)

He doesn’t even think twice before swooping down to scoop Sebastian - wound in Jyn’s soft blue scarf and still trembling - into the thick arms of his jacket. The boy whimpers and Jyn’s eyebrows raise dangerously close to her hairline, letting go of his shoulder.

“We can’t just leave him behind,” Cassian explains in Basic. “He has no one.”

_ I can’t let him face the same thing as me,  _ he really wants to say.

Sebastian turns his tiny face to Cassian, tense and curious at the same time.

Jyn wants to tell him that of course they can leave this stray behind, that he isn’t anymore special than the hundreds of other orphans strewn across the galaxy, looking for their next meal rather than someone to show them an ounce of kindness. She wants to let this kid be so they can leave this godforsaken planet as soon as damn possible before anyone catches on that they are there or who they are. Whatever argument Jyn wants to bring up dies in her throat when she sees the empathetic look in Cassian’s eyes that he looks at Sebastian with, the boy curling in his arms and pressing his forehead into the fur lining of Cassian’s signature parka.

Their designated pilot almost chokes on his instant-ration meal when Cassian and Jyn return to the ship with a random, snivelling and dirty child with them.

Jyn takes the co-pilot’s seat and focuses her attention to the coordinates to return to First Base because she has to keep herself from watching Cassian help little Sebastian slide down from his arms and back onto solid floors.

She hears his soft gasp of surprise when the stars melt around them, careening them into the recesses of the universe. It is enough to bring a small upturn of her lips to her face.

_________

Sebastian leaves Fest with three straight scars across his skinny right arm, a bleeding cut above his dark eyebrows that just narrowly misses his hairline, darkening bruises from the kicks taken to the torso from the bullies, torn clothes under his diminishing snow jacket, and a need to hold onto Cassian every second he can.

By the time their ship is docked safely on First Base Cassian has scrubbed the mud and blood from the boy’s skin, wrapped his trembling frame -  _ gods, does the kid ever stop shaking? _ \- in Jyn’s borrowed blue scarf and attended to his injuries the best he could with the meager pile he musters from the standard emergency kit hidden behind a tech panel.

_________

First Base is a shitstorm of soldiers and crews and people walking from place to place with a speed it is like the great Maker has lit a fire under their asses. Naboo itself is a peaceful planet; then the remains of the Alliance decided to make a part of it their motherboard for running the New Republic’s first baby steps of life. They have an entire city to themselves - Ikara - that they practically overtook for themselves.

They pass over lush forests and bubbling waterfalls, massive expanses of thick green fields and grassy slopes; they pass over intertwining rivers that remind Jyn of the ones back on Lah’mu that she would visit as a child.

Ikara is a city made of strong stone and beautiful architecture. It almost seems too graceful to be the home of such a ravenous entity of people that want to rebuild the galaxy. 

At least they get a small apartment to call their own, away from the fray of docked X-Wings and the barracks of soldiers.

Crochan Varter - the assigned pilot - and Jyn decide to take on debriefing so Cassian can do whatever he needs to do with Sebastian. They part outside the landing hangars. She gets a nervous small wave from Sebastian as he walks away hand in hand with Cassian and a promise to see her back home from Cassian himself. She follows Varter to Command.

_________

Sebastian’s hand is tiny in Cassian’s that he has to remind himself not to hold on tightly in fear he might break it. Smiles seem to never leave their faces as they make their way through First Base to the orphanage. Sebastian takes delight in pointing at fighter ships, gawking at the pilots themselves, trembling at the sight of soldiers, and even stopping fully to see a Gungan that skillfully deals a set of sabacc cards with a technician team.

Upon arriving to the orphanage, Sebastian’s face goes slack without emotion.

“ _ Aqui te cuidaran, Sebastian,”  _ Cassian kneels down to tell the boy. His eyes go round with what could be fresh tears and Cassian’s chest feels tight. Little hands grope for the edges of his fur-lined jacket, trembling.

“ _ No. No ire con ellos. Por favor, llevame con tigo!” _

A woman in blue and with a soft smile approaches them from the orphanage entrance. She stops enough distance away to give the two of them privacy. Cassian motions to her with a hand and feigns reassurance into his voice.

_ “Ellos te cuidaran, chiquito. Te ayudaran buscar una nueva familia.” _

Sebastian outright starts to cry, quietly. Cassian has to pull his little hands from their tight grip on his coat and beckon for the woman to come over. The pull in his chest tightens. He wonders if he was this terrified when the rebels took him in so, so, so many years ago.

The woman swoops down carefully and takes Sebastian by the hand. He refuses to let go of Cassian with his other open hand. There is still a smear of blood on his thin little wrist. The orphanage woman realizes quickly that she needs to take Sebastian by carrying him, but he howls louder at the contact, like Cassian is a part of him and it hurts to be taken away. Passerby glance in the direction of the commotion and Cassian prays his face does not give anything away. A second attendee from the orphanage steps out as the first is too occupied trying to shush a crying Sebastian as they walk away.

“He doesn’t understand Basic and speaks Festian,” Cassian tells the Twi’lek who also wears soft blue clothes. He briefly wonders if the color does something for the children or if that is the uniform they are told to wear. “And he is injured; never stops trembling.”

The Twi’lek jots everything down on a datapad, absorbing the details the captain gives her and transferring it into notes. Cassian turns to leave after she thanks him.

“Wait,” he adds a second later. The attendee turns quickly to catch what else he may have forgotten to say. “If anything happens - anything at all - tell me.”

The datapad shifts nervously between the Twi’leks hands, like she does not know what to say at the moment. Finally she decides on, “Even if someone adopts him?”

Cassian sighs. “Yes.”

_________

That night back in their small shared apartment, Cassian cooks an excellent meal in silence with the face of utmost detailed determination. Years of living and working together doesn’t come without its perks of letting Jyn learn to read his body language. Cassian cooks marvelously and picks at details when he is mulling over something.

They sit at their small table in silence to eat because she would rather let him think over anything before prying him with questions. She delves into her bowl of spiced rice with meat and lets his brows furrow together in thought as he shovels food in his mouth.

“Debriefing was quick today.” They sit in compatible silence on their bed under their favorite dark green blanket that reminds Jyn of the rolling plains beyond the stone city of Ikara. The remnants of the glittering red Naboo sun sits in the horizon, its color as deep as the red earth of Jedha, the last rays of light breaking through their window. Cassian looks up briefly from the files he keeps moving around on his datapad. She presses on.

“Crochan Varter is a good pilot and Command likes him running our missions lately. Level headed is what they called him, able to outrun other pilots in sims but too much of a freelance to be part of a squadron. They want him to pilot more missions instead.” Cassian drags a file with a finger and types in something Jyn cannot see.

“They make a point. How was the rest of debriefing?”

“Fast. Leia was relieved to get that list. Says it’ll save her and Command time from having to guess potentials. She wants Han and Chewie to lead a mission to take out the more dangerous ones, maybe get some Intelligence officers on the rest.”

Her hand inches forward until it brushes over Cassian’s knuckles, scarred over from countless fights. It is no secret who will be leading those missions and carrying those assassinations and it hurts Jyn in places she did not know she could still feel something knowing that the war may have ended, but the New Republic still needed him for this.

No matter what, he will always be breaking himself for them.

She doesn’t know what to say afterwards. The sun has disappeared, leaving the room colder than it was before. The visit to Fest lingers in the back of her mind but they both avoid it. Cassian doesn’t know if he wants to avoid the topic of returning to Kavrika or if he even wants to talk about turning Sebastian over to the orphanage. They retire that night late, partly because they decide to work to distract themselves. It isn’t until Jyn’s hair is in its loose night braid and his hand rubs over her palm in slow circles that he confides.

“I had to save him from himself.” The room is too dark to see Jyn’s eyes glance in the direction of his face. Cassian stares at the ceiling. “When I lost everything I knew, I was scared and turned to myself for survival because there was no one there. At least you had Saw. You had hope. You had someone take you in and give you hope instead of nothing.”

The room is too dark for him to see the moisture pooling at the corners of her eyes, the tears rolling down to the slant of her nose and down the sides of her face.

_________

He wakes to the beep of his comm from Command with a new assignment and his datapad flashing with a message from a department of First Base Cassian is unfamiliar with, but is immediately reading when he recognizes the sender.

Ivara, the Twi’lek clad in blue from the orphanage.

_ Male. 6 years old. Early PTSD due to reported abandonment, physical abuse, and witnessing homeworld warfare. Sprained wrist: right hand. One cracked rib. Bacta treatment administered upon arrival. Irritative behavior with authority. _

Cassian reads the file over breakfast with Jyn, swearing every other bite of oatmeal because dammit he still has meetings because that pulling sensation in his chest is back.

_________

Command sends him on a three day recruit mission, leaving Jyn behind to organize for a meeting with Leia about the potentials. She would prefer to be at Cassian’s side after the tense morning reading the report from Ivara, but there was nothing she could do to sway the General’s final roster decision.

He had left pressing a chaste kiss to her temple and sporting quite the stoic expression that told anyone that dare approach him to  _ piss off _ .

She spends her free evenings sparring with some soldiers by the barracks. Her frustration since Fest that has been building in her gut vents out between truncheon hits and blocks. At the end of the day she takes Cassian’s datapad that sits unused while he is away, by the edge of their bed, and goes through the short notifications he gets from Ivara.

_ Translation bot needed to accompany him. Refuses to sleep with the lights off. Does not interact with the other children. Cries a lot for the “blue captain.” _

_________

His comm buzzes with a direct message from Ivara when he is enroute for First Base.

“ _ -happened so much quicker than we ever expected! A woman came in and they immediately had a connection. After an hour of paperwork, Sebastian was adopted by-.”  _ The message never finishes because Cassian cuts it off, refusing to hear the rest.

_________

Jyn is in their apartment looking over the sprawling city of Ikara through the window when Cassian opens the door and dumps his duffel on the ground. He doesn’t even try to take off his boots or unbuckle his holster from his belt when he joins her at the window. It was only mid-afternoon, but he had landed late morning.

“Kriffing debriefing took forever when Draven himself decided to show up.” Beside him, Jyn breathes out in what must be an airy laugh. Of the rare times she ever shows an emotion other than blistering mad or sullen, laughter is the greatest thing he had yet seen her express. “Had us practically start the entire thing over just for good measure, too.”

He turns to their room and starts to peel off his jacket when he notices a lump under the blankets of their bed. A lump that breathes and probably darker hair than Cassian’s.

Cassian’s chest tugs in a way he does not understand. Jyn follows him silently.

His head whips back and forth from boy in their bed to the smiling woman standing in the doorway. Jyn crosses her arms across her chest and smiles a little bit at him.

The sunlight that streams through the window hits her face softly, accenting the curve of her jaw and the glittering in her eyes.  _ Hermosa,  _ he thinks sometimes.  _ Hermosa.  _

He thinks it now as he stumbles forward to kiss her - she laughs through it - and wrap her in his arms that he is distantly aware still smells like ash and dirt from the mission. They don’t care as they hold onto each other in the light of Naboo’s sun, him running his fingers through the edges of her hair.

“Sebastian deserves hope,” Jyn mutters into the crook of his neck, basking in the warmth of the moment. Somewhere she is distantly aware of the rustle of blankets, the little breath of a yawn turning to surprise, the soft patter of little feet on the stone floor of their apartment and the telltale bump of a miniature body hitting Cassian’s leg. Dark eyes meet bulging ones and Jyn can practically hear Cassian’s heart leaping.

“ _ El capitan azul!”  _ A screech of laughter as Cassian runs a hand through the boy’s hair and Sebastian’s grip on his leg tightens.

She can see it, Jyn realizes, a future panning out in the light that hits them. A future where Cassian teaches Sebastian Basic and how to cook with precision; a future where she helps him clean his first blaster; a future where they build a home as a unit as well as bring together a New Republic; a future where war cannot tarnish another life.

Sebastian giggles up at them both with a wide smile, reaching for their hands, beautiful eyes wide with hope.  Light. 

_ Home _ .


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rumors of Captain Andor’s little double following him around First Base spreads to Command quickly. It becomes quickly known that there is much more at stake for the Erso-Andor team if a mission goes wrong; Command learns that quickly when they see Cassian pointing at X-Wings with a wide-eyed boy on his shoulders one day in the main hangars. He speaks in a language they do not understand and they see a smile across his face that they thought had long been exterminated from existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here come the feels! I don't think I have ever typed so much in so little time to post for a story that I thought would just be a one-shot, but I was really loving the positive feedback and thought "why not? A sequel wouldn't be that bad." - H :)

First Base was the last place they wanted to raise Sebastian, but it was the safest and closest to their lines of work. For Jyn, it kept her close to Command and the ongoings of the New Republic. On the other hand, it makes Cassian smile a little more each day.

Sebastian practically glues himself to his adoptive father’s legs. He often finds refuge behind them, the only greeting with his curious eyes from behind Cassian’s thigh, or sits curled against his boot when he gets tired. It runs the same with Jyn, who will occasionally drop her hand down into his thick hair as reassurance.

(He’s still learning Basic, so physical touch seems to be the best way to communicate between the two of them.)

Soldiers - or anyone really - that carries a blaster sets him trembling again with renewed vigor. It deeply unsettles Cassian, who struggles to connect the dots in the boy’s sporadic past. Fest is a war zone - has been since before he was born decades ago - and Ivara has to reassure both him and Jyn that it could take years before Sebastian improves.

It leaves often leaves Cassian nervously chewing on his lip, standing arms crossed and vigilant, watching as Sebastian sleeps late at night.

He has his own bed now. It sits across from theirs in the small bedroom of the apartment on Naboo. A few toys are scattered across their living area, too. It brings a warmth to the apartment that neither Cassian nor Jyn could ever have imagined would settle around them in their lives.

_________

If Cassian and the translation bot are teaching him Basic, then he is definitely learning the swear words from Jyn. Cassian knows immediately because the bot is especially programmed to a list of vocabulary for Sebastian to practice with every evening and nowhere in the list is  _ Kriff  _ or  _ dumbass  _ included.

“It could be worse,” Jyn tells him as they sit at their small table for dinner one night. “It’s not like I’ve been repeating some of the things Saw said around me when I was little.” Cassian passes Sebastian his bowl of fish and chips, then levels a glare at Jyn.

The translation bot sits on Sebastian’s shoulder, perched and attentive.

Sebastian giggles at Jyn and swings his feet in the air since he is still so far from reaching the ground. Jyn smiles back warmly and scoops her dinner onto her fork.

_________

The rumors of Captain Andor’s little double following him around First Base spreads to Command quickly. It becomes quickly known that there is much more at stake for the Erso-Andor team if a mission goes wrong; Command learns that quickly when they see Cassian pointing at X-Wings with a wide-eyed boy on his shoulders one day in the main hangars. He speaks in a language they do not understand and they see a smile across his face that they thought had long been exterminated from existence.

Leia understands the risks now even more as she rubs her stomach nervously in the shadows, the round bump of her stomach growing in earnest each week.

_________

It becomes an unspoken agreement between Jyn and Sebastian that he can have the open spot on her bed for himself when Cassian is off on missions. He hoists himself over the edge and crawls up to meet her in the dark of night, past his bedtime, and plops down softly on Cassian’s pillow. The translation bot would sit deactivated amidst his mess of toy ships in the living room on those nights, the only sound the low hum of Jyn’s mother’s almost long forgotten lullabies soothing them both to sleep.

She’ll hold him close, arms tangled in her hair and mouth pressed open to her shoulder, the weight of his body pressing her down into the mattress. He found a home in her arms and it makes Jyn’s chest constrict with such affection, in a way she never thought she would be allowed to feel.

Hope, she reminds herself, and the Force have twisted her life for the better.

_________

They find him some evenings watching the sun setting over the Naboo horizon, eyes wide and waiting for the X-Wings to return from flight training. He would wake early to the sounds of rocketing engines, scrambling from his bed to the living area window in time to watch them pass over head and disappearing into the atmosphere.

Cassian learns quickly that nothing will keep Sebastian from watching the returning fighter ships in the afternoon - not even dinner. So instead he or Jyn will simply slide his bowl of dinner under his nose and hope he will at least eat during the show.

_________

For his first adoption-anniversary, Cassian gets him a replica pilot’s helmet with the Alliance emblem on the side. The helmet sits too small for any actual pilot in the New Republic’s fleet to wear, but still big enough to tip forward and cover Sebastian’s eyes when he puts it on for the first time. He shrieks with delight and showers them in thanks, bursting at the seams with joy as he runs around the apartment with arms spread and making buzzing noises.

“Papi, lift me up to fly!”

This time it’s Cassian’s turn to light up with an energy and pride in his face that warms Jyn to her core. She laughs as he swoops forward and lifts a giggling Sebastian over his shoulders, raising him above the world, above the galaxy.

She laughs even more as Sebastian makes more “boom-boom” noises and shrieks as his adoptive father carefully maneuvers him around the room. The dark cave that recedes in the back of Jyn’s mind seems millions of light years away as she watches as beautiful light shines from her boys. If this happiness beyond their wars, she’ll take it any time, any day.

_________

He comes home with blood on his hands, both his own and not. The missions are short now, spread farther apart as the New Republic picks itself up with the vigorous support of anti-imperial planets rallying together, but still breaking him. It seems that the more he builds himself with this new family -  _ Sebastian, his son _ \- the more the killing costs him. He briefly wonders sometimes if K2-SO had the same effect on him before Jyn blasted into his life and pulled his head out of his ass for a change.

Sometimes, after particularly long debriefings with high Command, he will sit on a crate in the corner of the hangars and rub the blood and dirt from his skin. It never comes off easy anymore; he can still feel the warmth of it on his skin, like a phantom.

His worst nightmares aren’t the memories of past battles anymore; they are dreams of the phantom feeling winding its vile way up and around his body, covering his skin in red and cold, threatening to choke him in his sleep.

“Mami,” Sebastian asks Jyn one evening as Cassian finishes serving dinner. “Why do the monsters follow us?” His voice was small, his hands grasping the edge of his favorite blue shirt tightly. Cassian notices his fingers straining, knuckles turning white from gripping so hard.

He was struggling to keep the trembles away again and Cassian’s chest tugs hard.

“What monsters, Sebas?” Jyn asks softly, addressing him with the nickname that always puts him at ease. Jyn puts her fork down. Cassian grabs his dinner bowl and sits down at the small table. Sebastian, however, does not relax and peers at them both from under his long lashes.

“The monsters that wake us up in the middle of the night. They don’t hide under our beds; they’re in our minds. They wake up Papi in the night sometimes. I hear you tell him everything is  _ ‘alright _ .’ Everything is  _ ‘okay _ .’”

Jyn struggles to laugh this one off.

“And what makes you think Papi has monsters in the middle of the night?”

Sebastian looks up at them both fully then, gaze unwavering and hands shaking in his lap. “Because you tell me the same thing when the monsters wake me up, too.”

_________

Cassian’s conversation about the newest recruits with Shara Bey is cut short when he sees the massive Wookie carrying two kids by the scruffs of their jackets and a disgruntled Jedi making their way over through the hangar. Shara spits out a cuss under her breath and wipes a section of curled hair into her a messy bun.

“I believe these two belong to you both,” Luke motions towards the boys dangling mid-air. Chewbacca lets out a growl. Cassian sighs. Someone snickers two ships over.

“Next time I see these two trying to get into an X-Wing cockpit, I’m having Chewie take them to Leia instead.” Cassian’s eyebrows raise and he glances in the direction of his son and newfound friend. Sebastian pointedly avoids his father’s watch. Luke fights to keep a small smile from his face and motions for Chewie to let go of the boys. They fall onto the dusty hangar floor,  _ thump.  _ Shara Bey immediately snaps to attention, tanned skin blossoming with slight embarrassment.

“General Skywalker, I apologize for my son’s behavior. I will see to it that he gets the punishment he deserves and that this never happens again.” She levels her son with a glare that has Poe sighing and rising to his feet, slowly. He reaches out a hand for Sebastian and helps Cassian’s son to his feet next.

“I’m sorry.” Sebastian and Poe mutter at the same time, practiced unfortunately too many times as of late. Cassian grabs his son’s hand tightly. 

Sebastian gets an earful from Jyn that night as they eat dinner.

“ _ Kriffing _ ridiculous, Sebas! Do you know how much  _ more _ trouble you could have been in had someone other than Luke found you?” she exclaims through a mouthful of rice and vegetables as she drags files around on a datapad, hip against the counter where she eats. Her next mission was scheduled to leave at daybreak the next morning. “You got guts though. But it’s still dangerous!”

“I’m sorry, Mami; I promise it won’t happen again.” His accent is thick when he tries to talk fast in Basic. It is something that Cassian reassures her happened to him, too, when he first had to master the language.

“It had better not.”

_________

It takes two more years before the New Republic is settled into the Core systems, a pulsing new heart of democracy. Ikara slowly empties itself of fleets and soldiers; Command is slowly dismantled and Luke takes a small group with him to begin training the new generation of Jedi. It all seems to surreal to Jyn and Cassian; a new age of peace was beginning and they had a son to raise. Sebastian grows fond of Ikara - of Naboo - and they decide as a  _ family _ to find a larger living space.

He is only ten years old when he decides that he wants to be pilot. There really was no need for taking time to think about a career option - it stared at him since he was boy that would wake up to the roar of fighter engines taking off.

Poe Dameron is right beside him as they draw out their plans on scratch sheets in his room, under the dying sunset of Naboo’s sun. It’s a beautiful dream, Jyn thinks one day as she organizes the toy ships and a helmet that doesn’t fit him anymore on a shelf of his new room. Also a dangerous one. She sets the deactivated translation bot between the model of the X-Wing and tattered blue scarf he first came home in so many years ago.

_________

He learns to cook almost as well as his father. Almost, because he lacks precision.

_________

It strikes Sebastian when he is almost thirteen, after they have retired from a lovely dinner one summer afternoon, that his parents aren’t even married. He stops cleaning his blaster that Jyn gave him for his adoption-anniversary and peeks down the hall at where they work in compatible silence as they clean the dishes.

He can hear Cassian start to hum a familiar tune, something that makes Jyn’s lips turn up into a remembering smile that seems to remind her of some long-off memory. She laughs brilliantly in the setting sunlight that wafts through the window of their home, stumbling as Cassian pulls her into a slow dance. They stumble with practiced ease across the kitchen floor, laughing and humming at the same time, sharing in the warmth.

Sebastian wonders if they were always this carefree.

_________

The New Republic never really finds a reason to let them go, even after Ikara empties of their presence. Jyn doesn’t mind so long as she has something to do and has a purpose. They get her resignation papers three months after Cassian comes home from a mission with a broken arm and Sebastian turns fourteen.

Leia visits Naboo to find the woman twiddling her thumbs, not really sure what to do now that she has officially resigned from active duty and has all her time to focus on herself and family.

“Do you miss it?” the younger senator asks as they peruse along the intricate stone gardens of Ikara. Moss and vines line the structures of buildings, threatening to break the stone but not really making any damage. Jyn clasps her hands behind her back, turning her face towards the sun and breathing deeply.

“Do I miss war? No. Do I miss having to watch myself every second of the day to not get killed? No. Do I miss spilling blood for the greater good? Honestly, no.”

They continue in silence for some time before arriving to the apartment they claimed for their own. Leia sometimes wonders what it could have been like; the family unit life, no senate meetings, just her and Han and Ben somewhere off in the galaxy, together.

“What about training troops?”

Jyn stops, hand pressed against the lock and about to invite the princess in for a refreshment before she’s off for Theed again.

“Train how?”

Leia rubs her heel into the ground, thinking back to a battle many years before.

“Like training soldiers specifically for possible wartime. You remember the Pathfinders, how they were especially fit to take care of the Alliance’s most delicate missions. You could train groups at a time here, on Naboo.” The words are spilling out without really being thought over twice, but Leia really doesn’t care. The idea has been toying in the back of her mind ever since Mon Mothma showed her the resignation papers that had arrived months earlier.

“Maybe. I’d be nice to pass on something, I guess.”

And that is how Sebastian learns to fight as a soldier but at the same time stay under the supervision of his mother. He follows her each morning to the familiar barracks just beyond where the X-Wing hangars once were, down the long stone walkways and fountains, through the old Command center and to training with the new specialty teams.

Jyn teaches with a precision and commands respect from each and every one of them, not caring that her son is in the throng each day. He hears rumors of  _ Saw himself raised her  _ and  _ she fought a squad of Stormtroopers on Jedha with a truncheon, by herself!  _ passed through the soldiers as they practice as a unit. Flares of pride ignite in Sebastian’s head when he hears about Jyn Erso.

_________

They take him off-world for the second time since he was five shortly after turning fourteen. Cassian packs with practiced ease - Jyn just shoves everything in a duffel - and they are off for Takodana. Before leaving Sebastian trims the sides of his long hair until the top is the longest section left, the hair in the back pulling into a sharp bun. His tan skin matches that of Cassian’s, their accents twining in the same way, lean muscles showing through his shirt.

At least he is taller than his mother now. She especially likes to push down on his shoulders sometimes, laughing about how she wants him to be her little baby boy again.

“Mami, I’ll always be your little boy,” he reassures her as they head out for the ship. Jyn laughs, the crinkles of her eyes pressing together and her hand grasping his warmly.

“ _ Mijo _ , of course you’ll be,  _ para siempre. _ ”

Jyn and Cassian melt into the controls of the ship together, like they have done this a million times before, and probably have. Cassian punches in the coordinates while Jyn checks the gages and switches that make no sense yet to Sebastian. He finds a nook to call his own and fits his bag in a position that he’s most comfortable in.

“Are you with me?” he thinks he hears his mother ask his father.

“All the way.”

The stars blend once they break through the atmosphere.

Maz Kanata’s castle is almost straight out of a child’s story that Sebastian remembers Jyn reading to him once. The surface of Takodana is deeper than Naboo’s somehow. The lakes seem darker and more mysterious; the mountains are festering with dark forests waiting to be tamed; the skies are littered with darkening clouds that are laden with rainwater. He takes everything in, standing between his parents’ seats, absorbing every detail he can to memory.

Something itches in the back of Sebastian’s mind as they begin landing, like a cold sensation brushing against the back of his hairline. He shoves it aside.

Maz Kanata is truly the most striking individual he has yet to meet in all the galaxy. Her bug eyed glasses allow for her to scrutinize what feels like every inch of him in a matter of minutes, from his spotty past as an orphan to the curiosity in his eyes as he takes in every detail of the castle and the surrounding landscape.

“You did a good job with this one,” Maz tells his parents as she leads them deeper into the castle. The itching returns, more insistent than ever.

Cassian presses some credits into his hand as they enter the castle and Jyn warns him to stay out of trouble as she hands him a truncheon to slip into his pocket.

Maz leads his parents away to a table where a pair of individuals sit, huddled, keeping a sharp eye out at anyone around them. They tense at the sight of Maz coming over.

Sebastian takes a seat at a table close enough that he can be at his parents’ side if the occasion should arise but also to give them their privacy. He watches closely as they sit across from the huddled pair. Maz sits between the two groups - a mediator, he realizes - and waves someone over with a tray of drinks. The itchy feeling is back, this time tugging harder at Sebastian’s mind, like it wants to pull him someplace.

_ Little brother. _

He sits bolt up straight in his seat.

Jyn shoots him a look; Maz turns her inquisitive gaze to him. He swears he sees her narrow her eyes at him, too. Thankfully, the meeting pulls Jyn’s attention away.

Sebastian’s hands start to tremble, a little flicker of his thumbs as they press to his shirt in an effort to hide. The itching persists.

Someone a table over laughs into a bottle. A Twi’lek woman clad in a glamorous dark dress pores over a large sentient in a corner of the room. A group of older patrons sit around what looks like a serving bar and deal a set of cards for a game.

The meeting is over quick, taking no longer than an hour.

The huddled pair rises first from the table, his parents and Maz last. His parents follow the nervous pair back outside into the sunlight and to the landing docks but Maz tags behind, aiming for Sebastian specifically.

“Do not be alarmed if someone calls out to you, youngling.” Her voice rasps a little as she talks and walks in quick strides to keep up with him. “This is the ancient grave of an old Jedi battle ground. Light and Dark met on these plains.” The itch, the voice, the calling.

“I don’t understand,” he tells Maz. Jyn and Cassian start loading what look like small crates onto their ship with the help of the two strangers from the meeting.

“No one ever does,” Maz murmurs, ignoring whatever transaction is happening on her landing space. “The Force acts in the strangest of ways, don’t you think?”

The flight back to Naboo is a silent one. Cassian gets back the credits and Jyn her truncheon. Sebastian finds a bench that isn’t holding a crate and lays down flat on his back, ignoring the pinching cold. He opts to close his eyes, letting the steady sway of the ship and the soft mutterings of his parents rock him into sleep.

_________

Two days later Jedi Luke Skywalker himself comes to their home. He greets Cassian and Jyn like old friends. Three hours and two downs of Corellian wine later they are loading the crates from Takodana onto Luke’s small ship. Before he leaves, he pulls something from a crate, handing it to Jyn and murmuring something for only her to hear.

Sebastian never thought Jyn hugged anybody but him or Cassian until that day.

Later that evening when he asks his father what happened, Cassian simply smiles at his son in what he thinks is a sad memory.

“Your mother gave hope to Skywalker when he was younger and in pain that no one understood. He had lost his greatest weapon, but she had helped him build an even better one. She provided the means for Luke to have a second lightsaber.”

Jyn doesn’t join them for dinner that evening and instead pores over Luke’s gift at her desk in silence. It is only a day later when Sebastian notices a shoelace missing from one of his boots, Cassian is missing a ring to one of his rifles, and Jyn sports a new necklace made of a crystal the next day with pride and smirk.

Little pieces of her family nestle against her heart.

_________

They eventually get married, legally at least. It happens right after Sebastian’s seventeenth adoption-anniversary - a year before he is of legal age to join the flight academy - and they have the ceremony on Naboo.

It was more of a gathering than a ceremony, took less than an hour, and was orchestrated by a Wookie and a Princess.

_________

The house feels smaller when Sebastian and Poe leave for the academy.

“Promise to write, all the time,” Jyn fusses as he ties his hair back in his signature style. Shaved sides, slick bun in back, dark beard spreading to his chin. Through years of memories she thinks he looks like Bodhi. His bag sits on his bed, waiting to be zipped shut for the approaching adventure.

While Jyn hovers over has been watching over shoulder to make sure everything is in line before he goes, Cassian stands arms crossed and leaning on the doorframe.

He didn’t prepare himself enough for this day. For the good-bye.

“Of course, Mami, of course,” Sebastian reassures her, pushing aside some of her greying strands of hair peeking out from her bun to see her face better. He pulls her close, his broadly muscled body dwarfing her’s in size. She holds him tightly close.

“Come home in one piece? And don’t be getting into trouble with Poe. You’re going to be pilots now. Real pilots. Oh, wow, it’s like yesterday Luke was catching you two climbing into that X-Wing cockpit. Remember that Cassian?” They all smile at the memory.

“Mami, stop worrying so much. I’ll study and be a good boy.”

Cassian laughs, his chest rising and the sounds bellows through the room.

“You study and be good all at once? Let us know ahead of time so we can throw you a party when you get back! Study and be good at once my ass..”

He doesn’t forget to leave wearing the blue scarf he came home in so long ago.

It makes Jyn smile just a little more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Criticism always accepted, negative or positive, don't be shy!

**Author's Note:**

> Criticism is always well taken, either positive or negative! And no, my spanish is not up for corrections unless you speak it as a household language like I do. :)


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